Swept Under the Rug

From our very first breath, we were bred to be slaves.
Told what to do, and how to behave.
But what of the kids who didn't conform,
Who messed with the bull and handled the horns?
The ones that said no when given an order,
What happens to them as they grow older?
Nobody knows so we're all left to shrug,
While the rebels are simply swept under the rug.

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I wrote this poem about lost potential. It's for all those people who are able to see through the hollow agenda of our shallow society; keep fighting. We will change the world.